Adriana Jackson and Clarisse Rivers and Princess Marina of I guess Greece came to lunch (cab downtown $3) and they told about going the night before to the enema doctor who Sam Green and Kenny Lane and Maxime have been going to who also (laughs) does readings. And they all looked into the crystal ball they guy had and nobody could see anything because there was so much shit and dirt and candlelight. The guy told Nicky Weymouth he saw a plane crash but later she got on the Concorde anyway, although she was shaking, and it didn't crash. But they all say they're going back to him anyway. How can people go back when they know that what the person said didn't happen?
Christopher Sykes came by, too, and he sang the newspaper in falsetto and opera, which I've always wanted to do. He sang the story about the girl going to the erotic dentist and another story about a chicken. I told him I would manage him and book him at Reno Sweeney's and Trax, but he said he only performs for friends. He's another poor-rich English kid.
At Trax, Tom Sullivan told Catherine that yes, they're boyfriend and girlfriend, but that they shouldn't let it show in public because it cramps his style with other girls.
Rupert's assistant told me that blonds aren't big in the gay world anymore, and it's true -- it's the hot tamales like Victor who make out now.
The new club called Xenon is opening tonight. Stevie called Bob and asked him to spy there for him.
Warhol, A. (1989). The Andy Warhol Diaries (P. Hackett, Ed.). Pg. 141. New York: Warner Books.
